Amaranthine
by Ardin V
Summary: "No, not good enough." She smirked and took seat in the Goblin King's lap, a cunning glare in her pale blue eyes. "I only want Sarah." - Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 - Pleasure and Duty

_[ A/N : Hello everyone. This isn't my first FF, but the first I've posted here. Try not to flame, but if you can't help it then...whatever. This story is rated M for later chapters. I don't own anyone in this story except for Lilith and somehow I don't think I ever will. Ah well. R & R please! ]_

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**CHAPTER ONE - Pleasure and Duty**

"I know you won't last forever, _my Liege_." The ruby-haired woman plucked at bits of straw-blonde hair from her King's shoulders, fussing about herself as she stalked around him. He was seated predictably upon his throne, leaning lazily on one armrest as a leather-clad leg splayed out across the other.

The woman, although elegant as she was, was not Fae. She instead invoked a different aura. She was magic, certainly, and it seeped from her slender fingers as she fastidiously groomed her King. But she was different, somehow. Her magic was far more severe than what was usually accustomed for an entity as such, and it came off of her in abundance. Her alabaster skin glistened and danced with luminous magic only seen in the Underground. She was a splendid creature to behold.

"What do you want now, Lilith?" Her King had grown weary it seemed, slumping further into his throne as he felt her lithe hands picking at bits of him. "Come to mock me again? Beg me? Blame me for what's happening in the kingdom?"

Lilith rolled her pale eyes and ran a hand along the king's shoulder, purposefully pausing as she reached the flesh of his forearm. "No mocking or blaming this time, Jareth. You and I both know why I'm here." She gave his arm and swift squeeze before releasing him.

Drawing away from the throne for a moment, she huffed and sighed. Jareth watched, scarcely interested in what she had to say next. He already knew what she had on her mind, what she had on the tip of her tongue.

"I need an _heir_, Jareth." She spoke as if she was the most desperate creature in all the worlds, her power and enchantment dissipating for the moment. "You know, as well as I do, that all good Kings have their beginnings and their ends."

Jareth's eye roll couldn't have been any more observable. He groaned and, sliding down in his seat a little further (if it were possible), rested his head in his hand as if to ward off a beginning migraine. "You know the predicament regarding that. You know there isn't anything that can be done."

"You're **wrong**." Lilith's magic was back again and very menacing as she spoke. She turned and walked to Jareth's side, reaching out a hand to lightly trace one side of his decorated face. "I think if given the motivation to pursue _her_, you would - be it above ground or not."

Jareth gazed upward at the mischievous creature that was Lilith. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with such a manipulative devil but, he supposed, toleration was part of the title of King. And tolerating Lilith was something that was rather mandatory with the title of Goblin King.

For Lilith held many secrets of her own accord, the greatest being that she wasn't a person per say, but a personification. As best the Labyrinth could do, at least. And it worked. The Labyrinth had given itself the means to communicate and have its needs heard, and so Jareth endured the embodiment of the Labyrinth through Lilith. As long as the Labyrinth was content, the Goblin Kingdom was happy – and so was the King.

"You're talking about _her_?" Jareth's slanted eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared bluntly at the fiery haired beauty. Was she really bringing up that **brat** who had ran and conquered the Labyrinth so many years ago? Surely not. "She rejected it all, Lilith. She turned away from it. Plus, there are many more runners to be had. Another girl will stumble through; she'll be the right age this time. You'll help her become a champion and you will have your heir. Simple."

Lilith shook her head, ruby tresses falling over her dainty pale shoulders. "**No**, not good enough." She smirked and took seat in the Goblin King's lap, a cunning glare in her pale blue eyes. "I only want _Sarah_."

It was no secret to any creature in the Underground of what Sarah had done that fateful night so long ago. She had denied the King of The Goblins in his advances, which under normal circumstances would lead to certain death. But Jareth, try as he might to hate the wrench, couldn't bring himself to harm her. A fatal flaw in his plan, he had realised. So instead he had held up his end of the bargain, which was the king-ly sort of thing to do, and had delivered her home – baby brother and all.

But it forever irked him afterwards, as he sat and stared into crystals night after night. He always gazed at her, of course. It was always only Sarah. He merely had himself to blame, as it was his egotistical nature that had got him into such a conundrum. _The Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl,_ he recalled himself hexing, _and had given her special powers_. Of course, he fully expected her to have fallen in love with him too at the time, and hadn't prepared for such an unanticipated defeat by a minor. Why did she have to be a minor? What he would have given if she had just been a couple of years older! Maybe then she could have seen what he was truly showing her; what he was truly willing to do for her.

"You can't have Sarah." His voice had taken a turn for the chilly as he pulled his eyebrows into a frown and stared ahead beyond the entity in his lap, deep in thought. Lilith didn't seem to mind, instead leaning in closer and stroking a single slender finger down the side of the King's face.

"You can't deny me my _champion_." She crooned into the crook of his neck, a grin spreading from ear to ear. To onlookers the sight would have been that of a lover's embrace. "You know I'll do anything to get her. You know I'll sacrifice the entire population of the Underworld for an heir. _Your heir_. You will get her."

Jareth's thoughts swirled and pooled in his mind. Sometimes Lilith could be such a little sneak. Then again, it was just fitting for the Labyrinth to be a pushy opinionated woman. The Labyrinth itself had to have been at the very least a few millennia old; at least Lilith was relatively easy on the eyes by his reasoning. But Lilith was pushing her king in a direction he wasn't sure he wanted to go in. What she said was true, unfortunately. The Labyrinth would kill for its champion if given enough time. A connection had been made between Sarah and Lilith the day she had set moccasin-clad foot in the rundown paths etched into the Labyrinth. The Fates had intervened and when she had conquered, there was undeniable confirmation in the Underground that she would return – whether Sarah realised it or not.

Jareth uncomfortably sulked and shifted in his seat, causing Lilith to stir expectantly. She was still poised close to him, staring with wide pale blue eyes.

Least the Labyrinth begin to cave in on itself in an attempt at suicide, Jareth sighed and relinquished the remaining protest he still had toward her demand. Lilith, an incredibly powerful being who had dwelled by his family for many generations, wanted Sarah – _his Sarah_. It would be fruitless to oppose her over such a trivial matter. The Labyrinth was right, albeit vague. It needed for its King to produce an heir before it was too late, before it wouldn't have anyone to take care of it any longer. The Labyrinth was arrogant, of course, something Jareth found sympathy in. It sought only to survive, much like other creatures. But why the gods would it want Sarah?

"I find you very irritating, Lilith." Jareth spoke and went to stand as Lilith leaned back. She watched him rise, fluttering innocent eyelashes toward him as she took seat in his throne. "You force me to undergo very cruel bargaining."

"I wouldn't know what you mean." She replied as coyly as she could, leaning back to lounge in his vacated spot. "This arrangement will suit us both – no cruel bargaining is required, only reason."

She smirked proudly and watched as his keen eyes narrowed on her before quickly darting away. The King was irate, she could tell, which simply meant she had succeeded in her efforts of manipulation. They both needed Sarah after all; it wasn't a one-sided deal.

But the King wasn't as irritated as thought. He was troubled, deeply distressed at the thought of facing Sarah again. Denunciation once was torture, although he did understand why his love was unrequited. Again he asked the gods why she couldn't have just been a little more mature.

But what if she rejected him this time because she just didn't care for him? What if she had grown to despise him? To loathe him for granting her unmeant teenaged wishes?

What if she didn't remember him at all?

"I will collect her for you." After a moment of solitude he spoke up, cold words cutting the silence that Lilith had begun to enjoy. She delighted in watching her uneasy King. The Labyrinth knew it would always hold the upper hand. "But know this, Lilith. You will be forever in my debt." He spoke a subtle warning before turning, shooting Lilith one last livid glance.

She smiled a smile that held a thousand scheming secrets before Jareth dispersed into the air in front of her, her lips poised and her ashen eyes half lidded.

"Forever, _my Liege_."


	2. Chapter 2 - Unfamiliar Affection

_[ A/N : Sorry if there are spelling and grammatical errors throughout. This chapter is a bit rushed due to increased hours at work around Christmas and blah, blah, blah. Anyway, hope you enjoy and read on. BTW, this chapter is mainly just filler. ]_

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**CHAPTER TWO – Unfamiliar Affection**

It all started with a shattering headache. Sarah found herself flat on her back in bed, her forehead throbbing. For a moment there was nothing, just a brilliant light seeping through her curtain and silence. A thread of dream still played through her mind from mere moments before and she sought to keep as much of it in memory as she could. But her head hurt from the illumination of daylight, and she knew it was time to rise.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, Sarah had fallen in line with everyone else her age. No longer was she a young adolescent, full of fantasy, wonder and excitement. Now she was twenty-something, and the realities and burdens of life had settled in on her modest shoulders. She worked. She got paid. And occasionally she would help her landlady change a light bulb. Rare were the times she would get a phone call from her family, from her little brother who, although being a pain in the neck, she cherished more than anything else in the world. They had always had an _interesting_ relationship.

And it wasn't that she disliked her job or life. She was an accomplished cosmetician with a budding acting career, and highly skilled at both. But the routine was nothing all that special, nothing all that great. It was what she did. The same old thing, the same old stuff; just another day, another dollar.

Granted, some days were better than that; sometimes a whole lot better. Occasionally days were fun, some packed full of energy and excitement. These were days Sarah would delight in. But by and large, these were the exception rather than the rule. Progressively Sarah had begun to feel the overwhelming sensation that she was missing out on something of great significance – that there was another life she was destined to be living.

That wasn't right.

Sitting up, the brunette winced in pain momentarily before heaving a sigh. She stretched her neck. Early morning rises were slowly and easily becoming the worst part of her life. When she was a young girl things had seemed so much easier. Everything in her life fell into place accordingly when she had her nose in a book and her head in the clouds. But now it seemed she had become trapped in a place she didn't really want to be in.

Grimacing at the thought of work, Sarah caught sight of her alarm clock and cursed at it loudly. She had slept in, something which was becoming more and more frequent for her. Hurriedly she flung herself out of bed and hunted for a clean work blazer to wear. A shower and breakfast would have to wait.

The morning crawled by slowly, followed by an equally as sluggish afternoon. When the day was drawing to an end, Sarah found herself hovering by the shift computer with her fingers itching to clock herself out.

She didn't even know why. There was certainly nothing at home waiting for her when she returned that night, only an unmade bed and a mess of clothes.

She huffed at said mess as soon as she walked through the door and quickly stripped off her heavy rain-pelted work blazer, adding it to the pile. If only her stepmother could have the seen the mess Sarah harboured in her tiny little apartment.

_That domestic goddess would have a fit._ She grinned to herself.

Sarah's evening progressed far too fast for her liking. She only made it through a couple of chapters of the novel she was currently engrossed in before she found herself reading the same lines over and over again in frustration, her mind beginning to dose into a placid calmness. Sarah sought the comfort of her mattress well before eleven that night, her mind vacant the moment her chestnut-head hit the pillow.

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Nightfall in her city was almost magical in itself, the King had decided, as he swooped and dove along the tips of skyscrapers and over the vast metallic structures that arose from the ground. The darkness of the night sky above was offset by the evidence of populace below, the warm glow of lights and the aura of electrical energy substantial in itself. Jareth didn't spend much time airborne over Aboveground cities anymore, let alone at night. The bedazzling aerial view of human civilisation was quite spectacular. A storm brewed in the darkened sky and rain fell to Earth in heavy sheets, not swaying the glamoured King in the slightest.

He came to land on weathered railing soon after, with an overlooking view of brightly lit streets bellow. Cars rushed back and forth in a dizzying manner, the various noises of horns and high-pitched screeches of tire rubber wafting upward. Rustling his wings to ward off beading water, the snowy barn owl looked rather alien in such an urban area. To mend this, in one swift movement his feathers had melted back into pale painted flesh and the King stood rather staunchly, clad in black before the terrace door of Miss William's abode. And as if the door was just a mere illusion, Jareth passed through the threshold of Sarah's residence and straight into her living room where he made haste to observe she was not present. He stood still for a moment in the darkness, adjusting to the tranquillity of the room compared to the abundance of sound outside.

It was strange, he thought, to be so close to someone who he had despised for so long – or had tried to at least. He hated to admit it, but very deep down in the part of him which still harboured emotion, the prospect of seeing Sarah again almost made him anxious. On edge. He hated it. What he would give to see her again and feel nothing but loathing toward she who had bested him at his own game. If only the gods would grant him that mercy.

Silently, Jareth made his way through the hallway of her home, stopping once to eye a portrait displayed rather humbly on a side table. It was a boy, a fair-haired child who looked to be about ten or eleven. The King sneered as he was caught in a brief moment of recognition, and he identified the young boy as the infant he had the pleasure of keeping entertained for one night so many years ago while his sister ran his maze and made a fool of him. He momentarily wondered if Sarah had purposefully placed the frame there for him to come across. What a cruel reminder of what she had done.

Sarah's bedroom door was already ajar when Jareth reached it. He glided in silently and was surprised to find the room bare of any trinkets and childish thing-a-ba-bobs that she once most ardently displayed. Her walls were mundane, no posters or pictures hung. There were no toys or teddy bears or ornaments to be found. True, Jareth hadn't watched her for some time. He had stopped gazing at her through his crystals when she had become interested in the opposite gender, knowing full well his ego and indefinable protectiveness towards the girl would get the better of him somehow. But the amount in which she had changed since he had last viewed her was apparently quite substantial.

And there she was, her face at least. Illuminated by the dull glow of the night-world behind her curtains, Sarah's exposed skin lit up like a soft blush. Her eyes were closed by heavy lids, two thick lines of lashes curving across them. Her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed. At first he didn't recognise her. He had lingered silently near her bed for a moment, which was no longer a four-post single but now a modest double. Gentle puffs of air had confirmed she was indeed sleeping beneath a mound of soft sprawling blankets and his two leather clad hands had softly stripped back the covers from Sarah's sleeping form.

She looked different, the King recalled, years ago when she had run the Labyrinth. She had been a plump, bolshie little girl, for lack of better words. Now as she lay silently in the clutches of slumber he observed she had become slender and delicate. Her face had sharpened up, her cheeks not as rounded and her hair not as forlorn. She was smiling very softly with full cerise lips while she lay, a tender expression on her face as Jareth leaned down closer to observe her features. Sarah held such elegance as she slept and the King became swept up in an impromptu sensation as it made haste to wash over him.

_"Beautiful."_

He spoke to himself, his voice barely audible beyond his own lips. It was a short moment before the King withdrew back into himself and stood tall, caught off guard by the comprehension of what he had whispered aloud. Emotion, specifically affection, certainly was not a familiar sensation to the King of the Goblins. In fact it was rather alien, and as much as the King had hoped his fondness toward her would have dissipated over time, his heart proved to have had done nothing but grown stronger in its affections toward her – in its mysterious curiosity for her.

An amusing awareness stirred within the King and a part of Jareth wanted to never see the human girl again, to leave and never have to deal with her cruel conquering victory. But a smaller part of Jareth was quietly and delightfully spurring to life, and was beginning to invoke the strongest feeling of eager apprehension throughout him. The King felt almost giddy, such raw and unabated emotion not commonly experienced by one such as him.

Perhaps delivering Lilith her champion could be rather rewarding after all, the King surmised as he raised a gloved leather hand and plucked one single gleaming crystal from the air.


End file.
